


Eyes of the Evergreen

by Quantum_Witch



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Het, Loss of Virginity, Mary Sue, Original Character Death(s), Psychic Violence, Romance, Secret Relationship, Spies, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-10
Updated: 2003-05-10
Packaged: 2017-10-08 09:30:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quantum_Witch/pseuds/Quantum_Witch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reason Severus Snape became Dumbledore's spy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologus

**Author's Note:**

> Written years before certain parts became canon. But I'm happy to say I guessed a few things long in advance. **WARNING: Mary Sue alert.**

Professor Snape found himself alone. Again. As always. The end of the day's tedious classes brought not only relief from the relentless inanity of the children he tried to teach the fine art of potion making, but also long and weary hours in which to find ways of distracting himself from thinking too much. He was never exactly sociable, and even though he could have actually enjoyed the company of some of his fellow teachers, he rarely sought it out. Tonight he felt disinclined to trust himself not to betray a secret. And so he went alone to his chambers. Tomorrow might be easier to join his peers, but tonight…

Tonight was the anniversary of the death of someone he had longed to save more than himself. And every year, he'd mourned the fact that he'd failed. It was one of the primary reasons he'd left the Death Eaters and Voldemort, though of course he'd known even before that incident it was the right thing to do. He'd just done it too late.

He strode before his cold fireplace and sank heavily into the wingback chair before it, crumpling his black robes carelessly under himself as he did. It was hard to think of anything so ordinary as sitting down properly and neatly when his mind was already so prepossessed with memories. Unbuttoning his overcoat and reaching inside just near his heart, his searching fingers found the item pinned there for so many years and removed it. Holding it before him, he regarded the small silver box, laced with rune engravings, soberly. It had many spells on it… to prevent theft, loss, discovery by any sort of probing means… for the item inside was to him more precious than anything he owned. And he never even truly felt he owned this item either. He'd have much preferred not to, but it had been given into his care for good reason, or so he chose to continue hoping to believe himself worthy.

Slowly, with a feeling of ceremony that never dulled over so many years, he opened the tiny clasped lid of the box. Tipping it over slightly, he let the item inside roll into his open palm. The round slightly green-tinted crystal ball felt cold but his familiar touch would warm it. And it knew his touch well, like a lover's, after all this time. He held it on his palm for a moment, and wondered for the thousandth time if he ought not to get someone to just cast Obliviate on him and be done with it. The remembering never got easier. But he knew he'd rather remember, even if it couldn't change a damned thing. The memories, and the crystal, were all he had left of the first woman who'd truly loved him.

Now, the crystal warmed to his hand's temperature, it glowed slightly, and he held it up to eye level to watch the visions it would play out for him. Crystal gazing was considered with disdain among most reasonably talented magical folk, since they were intelligent enough to know that only they could affect the outcome of their future and not truly to predict it. Divination was inaccurate at best and wishful thinking that could only hinder you, in Snape's opinion. But since this one only showed the past it could be nothing but precisely, painfully accurate.

And one could be just as affected by the past as any potential future. Especially when there was so little future to look forward to…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE:  
> · The Prologue and Epilogue are not set in any particular time frame, and could easily take place during any of JKR's first four books.


	2. Vatis

She surveyed the room carefully, bright green eyes recording each detail. It was a rare thing to be where she was tonight, and a rarer thing still for there to be so many Death Eaters present. Especially since it was something of a social gathering. Trust them to be tasteless enough to throw a soireé for each successful killing. Perhaps it was only because of the most recent deaths… Several members of the Darlington wizarding family had been eliminated, and she grieved silently for them. It had to remain silent, if she were to ferret out information on the next potential hit.

As usual, she'd come on the arm of her latest 'conquest', a young man with no aspirations to become a Death Eater himself but who certainly moved in the right circles to know who they were. Death Eaters were supposed to keep their identities a secret, and always wore masks when they attacked. But when you already support the party, you're bound to learn a few names. After all, many of them had grown up together and joined together. Secrecy wasn't really as strong as they pretended it to be. Their egos wouldn't allow it be completely without advertisement. Voldemort's power was growing as fast as his over-confidence.

Tonight's swaggering swain was just one in a long line that had led her here. He had moved off across the room to get drinks, but before the night was over he would be out of her life already. All her numerous 'dates' with men who aimed for the power and glory to be gained from the Dark Arts had earned her a reputation as scarlet as her hair. A gold-digger, a player, hopping from one man to the next, aiming higher and higher. She let it be that way, because it would only be a matter of time before a true Death Eater made a move in her direction.

Tonight, she felt it in her magical bones, tonight would be the night…

She was breathtaking. The eye of the beholder didn't have to stretch its imagination far to catch that. Fairly tall, still with a slightly girlish figure. Her robes were palest grey over darkest green, in sumptuous satins and velvets. She wore little jewelry, merely a few rings which held no magic, only sentimental value, and obviously expensive. Long cascades of dark red curls fell to her waist, with two small combs on each side to hold them away from her face. Her exquisite face, pale and perfect, with delicate nose, full lips, and eyes of brilliant green. Mesmerizing emeralds. Shining evergreens.

And without knowing it, Severus Snape had been staring at her for the better part of five minutes, holding his drink just under his nose and not tasting it. This, he realised too late, was a big mistake.

Lucius Malfoy grinned broadly, a spark of malicious joy glowing in his eyes. "Ooh, look at the pretty toy, Sev. Not only pretty, but simple-minded and a renowned Death Eater groupie. She'll lift her skirts for anything that practices the Dark Arts, regardless of their looks." He smirked at Snape, running a quick glance over the entire unsavoury package. "Go on, chat her up. It's a sure thing you'll finally get your end away."

Snape stiffened noticeably at the sniggers of his, for lack of a better word, old school chums. Malfoy had the looks, Crabbe and Goyle the brawn, and he the brains but none of the other qualities. Malfoy also had his easy pick of women. Frighteningly enough even the other two, trollish lumps though they were, had managed to charm their way (probably literally) into a few trollops' knickers. But Snape hadn't yet accomplished this manly task, which wouldn't have been so very dreadful a thing, even at nearly twenty years, if Malfoy didn't seize every opportunity to rub his over-large nose in the fact.

"Lucius," he said in a deceptively soft voice, black eyes glittering with beginning hatred, "I can assure you that-"

"Now, now, Sev," Malfoy interrupted gently, "there's no shame in being untouched. I'm sure the hunters appreciate all the unicorns you attract."

Crabbe and Goyle nearly guffawed aloud at this, and Snape shot them a look combined with loathing and surprise, since they'd actually gotten the gibe.

"Lucius, enough," Snape growled. When he tried, his voice and eyes held a quiet mercilessness that quelled most anyone. Malfoy was hard to intimidate, but there were moments when something about Snape's glare reminded him uncomfortably of Lord Voldemort, just enough to give even him pause before the next joke left his lips.

"Only having fun, Severus, no need to get your bloody knickers in a twist," Malfoy mock-pouted. "If you weren't so all-fired serious you'd have more fun, too. You need to relax. And what better way," he grinned conspiratorially, "than by cozying up to a hot and tasty little tart."

Ignoring any attempt at protest and refusing to meet those glittering black eyes again, Malfoy nudged his large cronies. They grasped Snape's thin arms and all but lifted him, sputtering quiet rage, and dragged him across the room.

From the corner of her evergreen eyes, she saw the movement, and held herself still. Four men were headed her way. One strolling with evil glee on his face before two burly ruffians, who held a third all but captive between them. She guessed quickly what the game was: 'meet the whore of Knockturn Alley, and see if you get a little before the night's over'. She'd seen it before. She decided to play.

Turn at their approach. Smile warmly. Eyes wide and inviting. Mask on. Ready.

The poor young man they dumped at her feet was scarcely older than herself, and very discomfited at being hauled around like a toy. He glared upward at the other three who laughed and backed off.

Snape could have simply nodded and muttered an apology to the girl, then made his retreat, but when he looked into her face this closely, he found that he was unable to do anything at all.

She looked into his eyes and felt the mask begin to slip. His eyes were black as his shoulder length hair, deep and penetrating and confused by whatever he was seeing in her. Not the most handsome face she'd ever seen, with his pale complexion and quite large nose, yet still compelling in its own way. But it wasn't his appearance that caught her off guard. It was the sudden glow coming from his chest. She raised her right hand toward her own heart and felt the pulsing there, amazed and befuddled and totally delighted that it was happening. He was special. He was different. He was the one she had looked for…

Finally breaking the tense palpitating silence between them, she held out the same hand to him, which he took in a reflexive motion, shaking it. His palms were damp and his hands shook slightly.

"Pleasure to meet you," she said softly, "Juniper Janus."

He heard himself mutter his own name as introduction, but otherwise the only thing he seem to notice clearly were her eyes... luminous, piercing, incredible. And then he realised he hadn't yet let go of her hand. He dropped it quickly, and she smiled a quirky little smile.

"Would you care to go elsewhere, away from your… companions' spying eyes?" she asked softly, with that same smile.

Elsewhere? Maybe alone? With this gorgeous creature? Hell yes. "Um, that would be infinitely more comfortable, I should think," he said just as softly.

His voice, now that he'd spoken more than four syllables, was like silk or velvet. No, it vibrated within her head and chest, more like music. A cello. The voice of a wonderful dark cello. It was music.

"Then come with me," she said, "I have a better place we can be."

Across the room her now-former date turned, drinks in hand, and saw her walk away with the man in black, and swore softly, "Bloody hell. That was quick. Didn't even get more than a snog…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES:  
> · TITLE. The Latin word "vatis" means "seer", and is a terrible pun. "See her". He sees her. Okay, you got it, I'll shut up now.  
> · "THE VOICE". Obviously in reference to Rickman's role in "Truly Madly Deeply". And the fact that he does sound that way.


	3. Personae

They walked down the streets of Knockturn Alley, and surprisingly made a pass through Diagon Alley as well, until coming to the brick wall that led outside to Muggle London. They had barely expressed a word along the way, a couple of platitudes about the lovely warm night and the stars and moon. Snape felt like an idiot. But a very excited and nervous idiot. He knew her reputation. He knew what she might be leading him to do. And gods help him, even though he found himself stammering and practically drooling like all the rest, he didn't care. He wanted it now.

Juniper tapped the bricks with her wand and they opened, then she led him into the Leaky Cauldron. There was thankfully so much loud carousing and drinking taking place already that no one seemed to notice them at all. She took his hand to squeeze through the crowds and up the back stairway to the apartments above. As she opened her room and they went inside, he grew increasingly close to panic. This was going to be it. Yes, he was going to learn the ways of carnal pleasure at last. He could feel himself sweating, and it drove him mad to realise he hadn't the faintest clue how to proceed with things.

Instead, she took the lead. She had the advantage after all, the poor befuddled man and she the experienced temptress. She turned to him at the doorway, hardly waiting for him to take a breath, and kissed him.

His brain melted as he felt her tongue dart into his mouth and capture his. Her arms were wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer. What should he do? Arms - around - her - you moron. Yes, that was the thing. He held her, and was surprised as how perfectly she fit against him. Her mouth was sweet and her body was warm, and he thought he might explode with delight right this moment.

"Severus," she muttered between kisses, "tell me something."

"Um, what?" he mumbled back, barely taking a breath. Kissing was wonderful. He could do it forever.

"A secret," she said, "something you'd never tell your friends."

"Mmm, I wish," he sighed, just beginning to understand that teeth could be used as well as tongue, "that I'd never become a Death Eater. I hate it, and I hate them, and I want out, but I know they'll kill me first."

She froze. He froze. Their lips were still together, but their eyes were open to stare into each others'. She smiled and pulled back to look at the terrified expression on his face.

"It's all right," she whispered, "I won't tell them. I'd rather die first."

He began to babble almost incoherently, trying to reverse the words, but they wouldn't come back. He gave up and stumbled across the room to the nearest chair and sank down, still mumbling.

"You know, you have such a marvelous voice, you really ought to use it to speak full sentences," she grinned. "I rather like listening to it, myself."

This caught him off guard enough to compose himself. "I cannot believe I said what I did, that's all."

"I know. And if you like I can make you forget that you did," she held up a hand meaningfully. "But I'd rather not, because I think it would be wrong of us to pretend that you are as evil as the rest of your friends."

"They're not my friends, and what did you do to me to make me say that in the first place?" he said it with a growl, but his eyes were curious.

"I kissed you, silly. Don't you remember?" she came closer and knelt on the floor before him. Provocative. "Want to try it again?"

And he leaned forward to take her beautiful face in both hands. His hair swept over her as he brushed his lips across hers, and he felt her sigh softly. She was, he finally noticed, actually enjoying the kissing as much as he had been. Though he'd been possessed by the inability to think earlier, he was thinking now. And he knew that she'd done something to him. Was still doing something.

"Juniper Janus, what an interesting name," he whispered between her lips. "The first is a powerful plant in magic arts… it protects and strengthens… is sometimes used in minor love spells… helps to break curses… and also wards off snakes."

She tensed slightly, but he kept her face in his hands and kept kissing her. Now that he'd touched her lips he didn't wish to stop. "And the last name… the Roman god of the changing year… and also two-faced. Some say one face is woman."

The kiss ended as he stared full into her brilliant eyes. They both knew. She was a spy.

"Shall I make you forget that you know this?" she asked.

"I have no doubt that you can. I have no doubt that you have done it already to many others who are older and stronger than me."

"But not wiser," she smiled.

"Flattery shall not avail you," he said. "And I'd rather not be forced to forget someone as interesting as you. Besides, you know my deepest secret, I feel it's only fair that I know yours. So Juniper," he growled the name softly, making it sound like dark music, "think you can drive away this snake?"

"There are two kinds of snakes," she said calmly, looking into his adamant onyx gaze. "The venomous killer, a sad little stereotype that everyone fears. And the traditional magical serpent, who represents mystery and wisdom and healing."

There was a moment of silence while his gaze grew less harsh. She believed him to be the latter, and perhaps she was delusional, but that would make him delusional as well, since he dearly wished to believe it also.

"So, will you turn me over to your fellow Death Eaters?" she asked gently, eyes still locked onto his.

He paused just long enough to make her wonder. "No. I think… we both want the same things."

She could still see the pale light around his heart and said, "Do you know that some of us can see auras, the living light of the body?"

"Yes, I've heard it's a rare gift. One that is hard to teach, and one that only a few magical items can help with."

"And one that I possess." She smiled at him meaningfully.

"What… do you see around me?"

"Darkness, of course. You've almost let yourself be swallowed by it."

He sighed a single deep breath and looked downward. "Yes…"

"All your acquaintances are too far buried to help, but you… still have one shining spot left." She touched his chest with her right hand, and he felt a jolt.

His eyes almost closed, whether because of her touch or her words, he didn't know. "Are you saying you see something good left in me?"

"Yes, I do."

"How can you tease me with such an idea?" he sighed. "After the things I've done and said…"

She saw the anguish in his eyes, which he probably kept well hidden from others. "You are not the things you do and say. I and you have one thing in common. We both wear a mask."

"When I kill…"

"No, I meant inside. It hides how you feel, so that others can't see your heart. It hides your heart, so that it can't feel as much pain as it might otherwise…" She cocked her head slightly and asked, "How did you ever come to be a Death Eater?"

"I'm Slytherin," he scoffed. "What other reason does one need?"

"Again with the stereotype. I'm Hufflepuff, so does that mean I'm expected to spend my days in a kitchen, baking cookies and being honest, sweet and truthful?" She grinned at his furrowed brow and bemused half-smile. "Wouldn't have quite guessed it of a spy, eh?"

"Those I knew from that house - admittedly few and not very well - were all quiet and studious and helpful little prats," he grinned in return.

"And so was I when I was a child. Times changes. We change. If I were sorted again today, I'd probably wind up in Slytherin with you."

"We must have been there at the same time. I apologise for not remembering you," he truly looked sorry.

"It's alright. I do know who you are, but only from our school's yearbooks. You were a year ahead of me, so we wouldn't have had classes together or anything." She smiled at him again. "Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and do it all again, but differently… don't you?"

More than you know, he thought. He suddenly asked, "What do you want from me? I cannot help you bring down Voldemort."

"That's not my mission. Only to take what bits of information I can grab, to save a few lives."

"While I end them," he sighed, a haunted look taking over his face now. "I don't know, honestly, what I expected when I joined the group… but it bloody sure wasn't murdering people in their own beds." He put his head into his hands and gazed at the floor between them. "And I thought they were my friends, that Voldemort would lead us all to greatness and glory… but he's insane… cruel… We're really just his… his slaves." The world was spinning as he realised the full scope of what he was saying, and the total truth of it. "I really want out, but there isn't a way, outside of my own death… Perhaps it would be best…"

After a moment's silence, she said softly, "Severus, would you come home with me?"

He raised his head and looked at her in puzzlement, then at the room. "Elsewhere than here, I take it?"

"Of course. I have need of more privacy for my real life."

He hesitated. Did he really know what he was doing? This had started as a delightful chance to lose his virginity, to distract himself for a brief while from his own inner demons, and was turning into a peculiar and undoubtedly dangerous game of intrigue for them both. Why he believed her, why he trusted her so totally, he wasn't sure. Perhaps a spell she'd cast… But something in her eyes told him to just go with his gut. He might just as well be asking her why she trusted him.

So there they were - two people who could see beyond each other's masks.

Her evergreen eyes were pulling at his soul. He took her hand. "Yes, I'll go with you. Even if you are merely leading me to a cell in Azkaban."

She rolled her eyes. "I assure you, it might be a bit cluttered and dusty, and there tends to be the occasional spider… but it's not nearly so bad as that."

Leading him into the small bathroom, holding his hand, she touched a rumpled bath towel on the floor which turned out to be a Portkey. They whisked away in a blur and found themselves standing in a secluded part of Hyde Park. There were numerous Portkeys around, each leading to a different location. She led him to another, a crushed soda can, and away they went again. Finally they arrived in the middle of a moonlit meadow he'd never seen before. They could be, well, anywhere. The way she'd jumped and re-jumped kept her better hidden.

"About half a mile through the fields," she said, tugging at his hand. "There's my home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES:  
> · TITLE. The Latin "Personae" means "mask" or "acting". This is what they each discover about the other here.  
> · SELF-NOTE. Can you believe it took me THREE READINGS of the books before I realised that Knockturn Alley meant "nocturnally"? Sheesh. I can be really slow sometimes!  
> · JUNIPER'S NAME. The name Juniper Janus came to me, literally, in a dream I had of Snape. Then when I read in "Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs" just what the plant stands for, I realised I'd all but had a vision. The book reads thusly: 'Used throughout Europe as a protective herb, juniper also guards against theft… hung at the door protects against evil forces and persons, and is burned in exorcism rites… added to love mixtures, and the berries are carried to increase male potency [heh]. When carried or burned, juniper helps the psychic powers and breaks hexes and curses, and drives off snakes.' And of course the name Janus is explained fairly clearly by Snape in the story. It was too perfect to ignore.  
> · SNAKES. The Wiccan ideal of the mystical serpent of knowledge seems more appropriate to me. I've always seen Snape that way  
> · AURAS. I decided Juniper could see auras after having my own aura photo taken. It was incredible.


	4. Confessionis

From the outside it was the typical quaint, picturesque, cozy cottage any Hufflepuff would be expected to have. Perfectly harmless looking. Snape almost felt his presence might defile it, but shrugged the feeling off as she opened the door for him.

They were greeted at the door by a large Kneazle. He was mostly a tawny gold with speckles of darker brown. His piercing yellow gaze met Snape's black one in a calculating way. Figuring the cat would then leave, as he was certainly being judged unworthy, Snape was even more surprised when the creature approached. Oh great, he thought, it's a guard Kneazle, and I'm about to be mauled to death. The ultimate shock came when the cat banged its large eared head against his shin, nearly knocking him over.

Juniper grinned broadly with total delight. "And now you've passed the crucial test. I guess I'll have to keep you."

Trying unsuccessfully to escape the purring creature's attention, Snape muttered, "Clearly this is one Kneazle who's lost his ability to discern unsavory character."

Laughing at his discomfiture, she nudged the cat aside with her foot. "Go on Therion, leave the poor man be."

"'Therion'?" Snape almost laughed as he dusted clots of cat fur off his pant legs. He realised the name was Greek. "That, madam, is hardly a 'Wild Vicious Beast' by anyone's standards."

"Oh, only when he has to be, it's true. You should see him stalk his dinner plate."

"I can only imagine the horrifying shrieks of the china pattern." Snape was grinning widely, and realised he was actually enjoying himself, even through the snide remarks. How was it that he felt so utterly relaxed here? The place was just as charming inside as out. That must be it. He was still charmed. Still, it was hardly a bad thing. It was the first time in longer than he could recall that he'd felt this way.

"Come sit. Be my guest while I gather some goodies, then pump you for information," she grinned conspiratorially. "Still have to play spy, you know."

"Are you even for real?" he asked half to himself as she bustled off to the kitchen. Nothing could have ever prepared him for the total difference he'd seen in her demeanour from one scene to the next. She was literally like two people. And he found he liked them both.

Juniper, rather than conjuring, made tea and snacks with her own hands. She didn't even have a house elf, which probably explained the clutter of books, papers, cobwebs, and various cat toys lying about. The Kneazle himself had taken up residence on a nearby chair and was regarding Snape with those glowing yellow eyes again, and purring loudly. Before his hostess returned, Snape stealthily reached over to scratch Therion behind its ear, and cursed himself silently for doing so.

When Juniper returned they spent a few quiet moments sipping and snacking, while he debated whether he was dreaming it all.

"Okay," she finally said, "where shall we start. Me or you?"

"What?" he said around a mouthful of pumpkin tart.

"Secrets. Histories. Favourite color, birth signs, turn-ons, whatever you want to discuss." She grinned as he almost choked at the 'turn-ons' mention.

"You are a dream," he muttered. "No one could possibly be as different in public as in private."

"Can and am. Have to be. Told you it was a mask. One I've cultivated for years. It's a funny thing, you know. My name really is Juniper Janus. My parents were Salvete and Violet Janus. I think I was destined to play this part." She smiled widely. "Well, since I'm already started I guess I'll be first."

"Uh, I suppose so…" She was befuddling him again, but in a new way. He still liked it though.

And so she launched into it all.

She'd come from a long line of magical folk, mostly Hufflepuff and some Gryffindor. Her parents had been great lovers of Muggle life, with an interesting philosophy. Since Muggles outnumbered Magical folk probably ten to one, they figured the best way to get along was to live amongst them and learn their ways. They seemed to see it as an anthropological mission, and each year they took her along with them as they explored the Muggle world. When she entered Hogwarts, every summer vacation was a field trip to another European or African country to sample Muggle life, sort of 'roughing it' since they used little magic on these holidays. She learned the basics -- monetary systems, how to use electricity and various appliances, and of course many new languages. She was well educated enough to pass among Muggles with ease by the time she was 15.

But of course her parents didn't totally give up their magical lifestyle. They kept a well-protected home, and had a passion for collecting rare and unusual magic artifacts. Some of these had proved to be quite old and valuable, and selling some to other collectors had made them a tidy profit to retire on.

Suddenly her narrative slowed, and Snape knew something much more serious was about to unfold.

"We were in a small country in Africa, walking along the street at night, when it seemed from out of nowhere there came a car, out of control… around a corner… it ran them both down… They didn't even have time to Disapparate…"

He could see the pain in her eyes and almost reached out to comfort her, but stopped. What comfort could a murderer like himself offer?

"I've since discovered," she continued, "we were in what is termed a 'third world country', meaning it's not as advanced technologically as others. By the time medical help arrived, it was mostly too late. And though I sent up signals with my wand, no one answered… there wasn't anyone magical nearby who could be of help. I didn't even have an owl to use… I watched them die…" She stumbled over her next few words. "I came home… left Hogwarts… took private tutoring… sold most of my parents' estate… gave many of the artifacts to the Ministry… sold others…" She felt the tears start and dashed them away almost angrily. "You'd think I could just learn to turn them off. The waterworks, I mean. It's been three years, after all."

"Hardly a lifetime ago," he said softly, finally reaching out to touch the back of her hand in as comforting gesture as he could manage. "And I do understand how hard it is to lose someone you care for… though perhaps not so severely as you have."

"Okay, that sounded like an opening in the shell," she smiled again. "Your turn."

"Not so much to tell. I come from a long family of dark wizards and witches, as you might have guessed. I was always told 'you'll be in Slytherin house', as though nothing else existed. Maybe if I'd been surer of myself I'd have gotten into another, and things might've turned out completely differently. But then, that would have… displeased my family."

Hearing the cold hollow sneer of his words, she understood he'd come from an unflinchingly strict background. Yet he'd still had a good spot deep in his heart.

"School was nearly as bad as home. I could shine in the classrooms, especially potions," he smiled a bit. "I am quite good at that. Better than anyone else I know." There was no egotism in his tone, merely fact and modest pride. "But of course that made me no friends in school. I was too good and too smart. So no one liked me. It may sound as though I was looking for popularity, but that's not me. I'd have settled for simple acceptance. A word of kindness. But… how could anyone have liked me when I didn't even like myself…"

He was amazed at how suddenly insightful he was becoming. Had she put something in the tea? No, he hadn't tasted anything, and he would know. It must be her presence that had him ensorcelled. Either way, he didn't mind at the moment.

"So," he continued, "I searched amongst the other outcasts and found nothing good. All were scared of me you know. My knowledge of Dark Arts was already more than some of their own parents. And they mocked my appearance as well. 'Ugly, wretched, greasy hook-nosed little git', they called me." Here he frowned a bit and pushed his lank hair from his face. "You know I really can't help how I look. There's such as thing genetics, which even magic cannot defeat…"

She pulled a sympathetic face at his self-deprecating attitude. He wasn't nearly so ugly as he imagined.

"Finally I did see an opportunity in one group. They were Gryffindors, but I was desperate," he chuckled a bit. "You may have even heard of them while you were still at school. They did have quite the reputation. They called themselves 'The Marauders'."

"Oh, James Potter and his gang?"

"Yes, indeed. I aimed for the most notorious, rather than settling for something quiet in the background." He shook his head. "What a bloody young fool I was."

Not at all, she thought, you merely wanted to be part of the light, rather than the darkness you came from. That proved her feelings about him even more.

"Sirius Black was an arrogant little bastard, thought he was a divine gift to everyone he met. Him I could live without. James was really the focus of the group. Bold and always laughing, smiling, making things better for everyone. I might have been able to approach him, if I wasn't so sure he'd reject me just for being Slytherin. He was rather… single-minded about that. Peter Pettigrew was a quivering little mess of nerves and had no others friends, and as far as I could see no interesting qualities. He was the toady and hanger-on, the yes-man. But there was still Remus Lupin, the one who was quiet and studious, and sometimes seemed every bit as tormented as myself. Him… I could have befriended. Except for that damned Black. No one else could get past the group's exclusive lines…"

Here Snape's face grew dark and he took a bolstering breath. "Lupin was often ill, and one day I witnessed the school nurse leading him away toward a recently planting Whomping Willow, which is just a cleverly disguised doorway. Black decided to play a trick on me, and told me I could follow and how to get in. I did, later that night, and almost made it to my destination when Potter came running at me from behind and tackled me." The memories were still bitter as ever, and his furrowed brow and glittering eyes showed that fact. "He all but dragged me away… and then I heard the growls. As we were running in the opposite direction, I learned that my destination would have been a final and bloody end. My hoped-for friend was a werewolf."

"Oh my," Juniper said with honest surprise. And sorrow. Poor Snape.

"I realised only Black was truly to blame for this attempt on my life, and I tried to have him expelled. It didn't work, so in my anger I blamed them all. The only good to come from the incident was that it nearly caused a breakup in the group. Not one of the damned boys, they would have stood together 'til the end of time. But… Potter's girlfriend Lily…" Snape's eyes grew clouded, as if trying to forget rather than recall too clearly.

"She felt badly for me, and came to apologise for their stupidity. I was in need of solace, and we took to meeting privately at the top of the Astronomy Tower for a couple of weeks. She was so thoughtful and kind and generous… even though she still tried to convince me that they had meant no harm, I couldn't let it go. She always defended Pettigrew and Lupin, the weaker ones, and even kept a sympathetic ear for Black's tirades. But I was unable to forgive them, and eventually she left me alone again… right after I kissed her."

He recalled how surprised they'd both been when it happened. So surprised that at first she didn't fight it and he allowed himself a split second of delirious hope that she would be his. And for just a moment she was returning the kiss, shyly, but when he grew bolder she pushed away. Her face hadn't been angry or even hurt, but sad. She had to go back to HIM. She simply had to make things right with HIM. If not, then… she'd looked at Snape with those soft green eyes… Maybe he could have had a chance. If only he hadn't been a second choice. The leftover. The pity-case. He wanted to hate Lily Evans Potter for it. But he couldn't.

Juniper listened, both to his words and to the silences between them. She watched the bright glow of his heart pulse and ebb, tremble and burn. He'd loved the girl, or been boyishly in love with her, or at least wanted her. Because she represented all the things he'd never be allowed in his dark life.

"How much am I like her?" she asked hesitantly.

"Too much. And not really much at all," he said, looking into her face. "The colouring perhaps. Though your eyes are much brighter, your hair darker. Face is completely different. But… both of you have such kindness…" He faded away, unable to look at her again.

"And that is something you still need," she said, reaching up to his face, turning it toward her. "Also a bit of truth, while we're at it. You are not ugly or wretched as you believe. You are not at all."

"This is not a handsome face," he frowned.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder is it not, my dear Severus?" she said with a soft smile. "And I saw what you truly are from the first moment."

His heart throbbed at her words and her expression. "What", he said breathlessly, watching as her face drew nearer to his own, "am I?"

"Very special indeed," she whispered. And her lips met his again, without any pretense at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES:  
> · TITLE. The Latin title "Confessionis" means "confession, acknowledgment, proof".  
> · THERION. The Greek name of the Kneazle "Therion" means exactly what Snape says it does. Pretty silly. And I still prefer Greek to Latin, but thanks to JKR I've had to learn both. sigh Will my education never end? (Please, Professor, let me put down all my books and rest. No? All right, I'll just serve detention after I take a little nap here in class… Hehe!)  
> · JUNIPER'S PARENTS. Their names were chosen with care. "Salvete" is Latin and means "welcome, greeting" (I thought he should be Italian with the last name being Latin already). The violet flower is used magically and herbally for all sorts of lovey-dovey sweet and healing things. I thought these names should be just about right for typical Hufflepuffs.  
> · SNAPE'S BACKGROUND. Of course I'm only guessing at this (though it's probably damn close), and I have no idea what JKR thinks of his feelings toward Lily. But I like this idea and so I'm sticking to it for this story, even if she writes something completely different (which knowing her, she will). [UPDATE: I was right, at least in essence.]


	5. Ineffabilis

This time the kiss was long, sweet, slow as honey poured through their veins. He stopped trying to think or believe it was real. If it was only a dream, he never wanted to awaken.

Their bodies had moved closer and she was holding him gently with both arms, one hand now caressing the nape of his neck in the most delightful way. He ventured a hand upward to touch her face as well, and found it bumping against her soft bosom instead. Flustered, he almost pulled away to apologise, but she merely reclaimed his lips and guided his hand back to her breast. He moaned softly into her mouth, as his long fingers defined the gentle curve of flesh beneath his heated palm.

When he felt her own tiny groan, he stopped hesitating and reached for the buttons down the front of her dress. She didn't stop him, in fact aided when his clumsiness caused him trouble. Soon he had exposed the lace and silk camisole beneath, and his fingers stole gently beneath the dress and back to her breast. Still covered, but only just barely. It was heavenly soft and warm.

He nearly whimpered when she moved her lips to his neck, sucking and nibbling, and began to undo the buttons of his coat as well. He shrugged it off and helped her with the stiff old-fashioned shirt he wore, until it was open and his chest was bare. And her lips went further down and across his collar bone and he knew he was going to simply die of desire.

There were further moments of unfastening and pushing aside of restrictive clothing, and more and more touching and tasting. Eventually there was a feast of exposed flesh and his lips had found their way across most of hers in a frenzy of discovery. She was soft as a rose petal, not at all rough like her namesake. And she smelled of heavenly things, though he had no name for any of them at the moment.

When they were down to nothing but the last scrap of undergarments, she suddenly seemed as nervous as he was. "We should… go to the bedchamber, I think," she said softly.

He nodded mutely, sparks of desire in his black eyes.

They went, they lay on her large comfortable bed, they stretched out face-to-face. The sensation of being in nearly full skin contact with such a rapturous being was almost too much for him to bear.

"I must confess to you, Juniper," he said as she continued kissing his face and neck, arms moving along his back like fire," I am… utterly inexperienced."

"Oh my, Severus," she managed a breathy giggle against his chest, "that comes as a total shock."

He narrowed his eyes and smirked, not truly angry. "Mock me if you wish, oh Scarlet Lady."

"Not mocking," she giggled again. "Oh, it's so absurd really, I'm only laughing because I'm every bit as nervous as you." She looked into his eyes with a smile and genuine innocence, brushing aside a long tendril of black hair that had fallen across his face. "I think you will soon find, if you've any recollection of human physiology regarding the particulars of female anatomy… that I am just as untouched."

His eyes held a moment of blank confusion, followed by surprise, then a darkening sweetness she wouldn't have imagined. "You… used spells on every man you've reputedly been with?"

"Confundus mostly, and the occasional Obliviate. Yes."

"And… me?"

"And you," she said, reaching downward to gently grasp the most sensitive and prominent evidence of his desire, "I want very much to be with, and not to forget me. No spells. Just you."

The dark sweetness in his eyes melted and flowed over them both.

His mouth drank her in as they stripped away what little was left of clothing and inhibition.

Gingerly they found their way through the tangled rose bed of passion. A few scratches. A prick of a thorn. A drop or two of gladly shed blood…

But oh the sweetness of the petals. The soft devastating scents and sounds. The dewy kisses of lips and bodies.

The deliciousness of at last being completed…

Afterward, Snape could only hold her, kissing her forehead, inhaling the fragrance of her hair. She belonged to him. She had given herself only to him. He was so deeply touched that he couldn't speak of it. He'd never dreamed it could be so utterly sweet, to feel someone sighing contentedly, wrapped in his embrace, nuzzling closer.

He finally noticed that Therion too had joined them and was curled tight against his spine, purring, basically pinning him in place.

And so he knew… it could never last.

To combat the morose knowledge, he muttered, "Well, that wasn't half so bad."

Mock-insulted, she chided, "And what, pray tell, made you think it would be bad?"

"You know what I meant. I merely mean, well… You know boys will talk of their conquests. And they all say the same things. 'She was a good tumble', but then they move on to the next and the next. Like girls were disposable, nothing more than wrappers on a chocolate frog, and once they've eaten away the sweetness inside, it's trash…"

She shuddered. Having seen firsthand that many of them did indeed think that way, she was even more glad for having used spells against becoming true refuse under their feet. "And you thought perhaps I'd be the same way. No reason not to, since I had built such a reputation as a painted tart."

"I wasn't sure what I thought of you. But I do know that women… life… these are not disposable and forgettable. Not after what I've seen in the last few months." That haunted look came back into his eyes. She'd chased it away briefly, but both knew it would take much longer to eradicate. "And someone special is even less dispensable. Frankly my dear, I can't imagine being with anyone else but you…"

Now he looked at her with such devotion, that she knew what he would say next. And she quickly put a finger against his lips to stall him. "Don't speak it. Not yet. It isn't safe. We've already said too much."

Confused and a little hurt, he frowned at her and removed her finger. "So we are to be nothing more than a quick thing after all?"

"No no, you misunderstand. First I must make sure of something, I should have done so before." She sat up, and reached for a wand kept in her bedside table. Waving it toward a dark corner of the room, she called out, _"Umbra Janua"_. And suddenly dozens of large spiders were creeping from every shadowed spot, appearing literally from nowhere.

Snape almost leaped in surprise, but when it was clear she had invited them, he tried to relax.

"Have you heard everything that's been said here today?" she asked, and they clicked a soft sound that apparently she could understand.

But no, they were actually moving, spinning webs. Writing in the webs. **Yes,** the answers came, **we know all, friend Juniper.**

One very large spider, almost transparently white and about as big as Snape's thumb, dropped slowly down from the canopy above the bed. It loomed before Juniper's face, and she smiled. "Hello Vivian, I'm glad to see you too." Then she turned to explain things to Snape. "This is the matron of the group, the mother of them all. She is a Shadow Spider, native to Africa and unfortunately very rare now. People kill them a lot, because they don't understand them, think they're dark creatures. They travel through dimensional doorways inside shadows, and as you've seen are quite intelligent and can speak in their own way. They make excellent Secret Keepers." The last part was spoken with gravity.

He understood now. Anything he wished to say to her in private needed to be kept hidden away, even from within their own minds. Others could pluck it out and use it against them both, and at this point they would likely both be tortured and killed. He nodded.

"Okay, Vivian," she said softly, "I'd appreciate it very much if you could take everything that we've said today and keep it in your webs. Please don't tell anyone these things."

The large matron spun a web between her forelegs, spelling out, **Fidelius. We shall always help you. You are our friend. And now so is the man.**

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I am surrounded by a lot of trusting individuals today," he muttered.

Juniper grinned. "Because we can all see right through you, dear Severus. And we won't be fooled." She kissed him softly again, her hand on his still glowing chest. "And we would never betray you." She stroked the Dark Mark on his inner left arm gently, as if to soothe it away. "Never. We would rather die first…"

He refused to allow himself to imagine that it would happen. Not right now. In the back of his mind, he knew, knew it would come to that someday, if they didn't figure a way to escape it all. But right now…

He returned the kiss, more deeply, and drew her back down onto the bed against him. "Not that I think they care one way or the other, but do you think we could have a few less spectators…" He glanced at the groups of spiders and Therion.

She giggled again, girlish and happy, and waved a polite goodbye to them all. The spiders sank into the shadows, though not out of hearing range.

Therion sulkily left the room to lay in a patch of sunlight. They had spent the entire night together and didn't even seem to notice it was morning now, and therefore his breakfast time. Fine, he would just have to go outside and hunt up garden gnomes to eat, and it would be her fault that his breath was foul afterward. Grinning in his own way, he stalked out the flap in the backdoor as the sounds of renewed passion began in the bedchamber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES:  
> · TITLE. The Latin title "Ineffabilis" means "unspoken, unspeakable". This is to show that they must be careful exactly what they say to each other.  
> · INTIMACY. Disgustingly poetic little sex scene, eh? Couldn't seem to get as graphic as I'd like with Snape's love life. He is terribly closed and private in some ways… Makes him sexier, I think. But then again… just read the OTHER stories I've written. Not so private there. Maybe he just likes his real love to be personal…  
> · LATIN. The spell I created, "Umbra Janua" means "shadow doorway".  
> · SHADOW SPIDERS. This idea came to me from another (literal) dream about Snape. The concept of using an animal for a Secret Keeper seems way more sensible to me than using a human. Animals hide better, and you often can't understand them unless you're around them constantly and get to know their unique personality. Also, the matron spider's name Vivian means "life" just like Eve (the mother of her kind, if you like to believe that myth).


	6. Dilabi

After installing a Portkey in his own humble apartments, this being a an old shoe in the bottom of his closet, they sneakily met whenever they could. Each time was passionate, burning them both with a brand deeper than the Dark Mark on his arm. They coupled and snuggled and laughed and talked as if they possessed all the time in the world. Each second stolen together was precious beyond all the gold in Gringotts, and they both knew it and therefore never spoke of it.

Meanwhile, she had apparently 'moved on'. The next gathering of dark magical folk in Knockturn Alley was a mere three weeks later, and though she showed up on Snape's arm -- much to the surprise of his Death Eater companions -- she left in the company of another -- much to their sniggering and malicious glee. They'd all known it wouldn't last, of course, but it just made them all the happier to watch Snape glare daggers at the new 'couple' as they stalked from the room for a tryst.

Of course it had been planned between she and Snape, and he knew she would be as cautious as she'd ever been. But still, it hurt. It stung to his very soul. She was his. And if his so-called friends saw so much as a glint that looked like a tear, he'd never be able to live it down. So he shrugged it off when they teased him, and agreed that she was exactly what they'd called her all along. A slut. A cheap tawdry whore. His turn with the town's bike had come and gone.

But only in public.

One hellish week later, she was cozying up to Rosier, who was a bit bolder in his exploits than Snape. He was also a little closer to Voldemort, having done more actual work in the field. Snape himself had only actually been sent out to kill or torture a handful of times. Rosier seemed to delight in it. He bragged about it. He gathered his buddies for extended gaming and drinking parties at his flat, and crowed 'til dawn about this or that group of poor Muggles that they planned to destroy. He even declared his intention to attack several important wizarding families. Though it seemed the decisions were still coming down from Voldemort himself, you'd have thought Rosier himself was in charge.

So Juniper hung on Rosier's arm, carefully casting spells to prevent him from knowing he hadn't gotten any farther than slobbery snogging and graceless groping. He seemed to be so damned sure of his own success at everything else, he couldn't let himself conceive of failing to get in her knickers, so it was easy to fool him. He was already a fool.

No one thought of her as anything other than what she let them. The mask firmly in place, she simpered at their lamest jokes. She had of course let everyone know her abridged history, how Muggles had killed her family with their stupidity and incompetence. So naturally they sympathised and swore that she wouldn't have to worry about that much longer. Voldemort, it seemed, would make the world pure for Magical Folk. In the long run, he hoped to kill all Muggles, and those that supported them.

It was worse than Nazi Germany, she thought. Worse yet that none of them seemed to have heard of it.

While they talked and drank, she gathered names and dates and places. She couldn't save everyone, or the jig would be up too soon. But still she had to help those she could. And so she passed information, and let the ones who could do so take care of the rest of the details. She prayed that things would come to a head soon, and that she could be free to leave this assignment and maybe get to a normal life. It was beginning to strain on her badly, now that she was so much closer to the source.

Or maybe, a small voice said inside, it's because you have someone else that you want to save as badly as yourself. She had chosen this life, hoping to help in a silent way… and now she too was enslaved by it. She too wanted out.

The nightly gaming and drinking was growing fevered. Rosier and Wilkes, one called Avery, and the detestably smarmy Malfoy, were all jesting about their latest kill. It hadn't been as great as they'd anticipated, since most of the family they'd aimed for had already been gone when they'd arrived.

"I swear, it's almost like someone told them we were coming," Malfoy sneered. "The only one left was the old grandpa and he was hardly a challenge."

"Shtill… a blow shtruck in the Dark Lord'sh name's a blow well shtruck indeed," Wilkes slurred his words a bit, as he sloshed his drink. "A dead goody-goody wizhard's better'n a live one any day, tha's wha' I shay."

Rosier and Avery chuckled and saluted him with their glasses. "Bring us another round, would you luv? There's a good pet," Rosier said to Juniper, patting her on the bum as she walked by with the pitcher of ale. Not one of them had a head for strong drink, yet they persisted in it. They seemed to think themselves utterly invincible in every way.

"Well, word has it that the Dark Lord is becoming suspicious. We've failed to get too many targets lately," Malfoy said, taking a smaller sip than the others. He was obviously still mostly sober, and this worried Juniper slightly. "He thinks we have a spy amongst us."

There was dead silence from the group for half a second. Then snorts of derision. And then busy debating whom it could possibly be.

Juniper forced herself to stay calm. She hadn't given them much reason to suspect her, but…

"Wonder if it's a Death Eater?" Avery said suddenly. "Nobody is above suspicion, are they?"

Dear gods, don't let them suspect Severus, she thought wildly. Flitting back over to Rosier's side, she hung over his shoulder and pretended to play with his spread of cards. "Well that'd be just plain barmy, wouldn't it? When everyone has so much power and glory working for him, who could be so daft?"

"Well ducks," Rosier said indulgently, winking at the others at how silly the little tart was, "no one's accusing anyone just yet. But I wouldn't be all that surprised at it."

"Nor would I," Malfoy intoned, staring a little hard at her over his glass. "Perhaps it's Snape. He's always been a bit… removed from the rest of us. Almost seems like he doesn't want to join in the fun sometimes." He sighed, as if regretting. "I mean we even invited him round for our little sessions here, but he doesn't seem to want any part of us. Sure, he does his 'duty' by the Dark Lord, but doesn't seem to take as much pleasure from it as the rest of us." Then he caught her eyes and held them. "Doesn't take much pleasure from anything, really. Even you."

Juniper was frozen inside now, but held her mask firmly on. Her apparently guileless green eyes met Malfoy's icy gray ones, then she winked. "Well, sure he did. And it was giggle for as long as it lasted. But it was time to move on," and she turned thankfully from his gaze to nibble Rosier's ear, "to bigger and better things…"

Rosier grinned broadly and pulled her into his lap, as she giggled even more girlishly. "Ah, get it off it Malfoy. You know Snape. Always been a sulky git, since school days. Nothing new there." He put his nose against Juniper's cheek and licked it, and she obediently giggled again. "Hey sweets, you've been working your way through us all here, moving up the ranks so to speak… What would you do if you met Lord Voldemort face to face?"

Run screaming, she thought blindly. But she laughed at the idea and announced, "What else, silly boy. Snog him good and proper!" Rosier tickled her and smooched her loudly. She pretended to swoon and said, "Oooh Voldy, luv, you are the best!"

The others laughed heartily at the jest. And then Malfoy said, with an evil glint in his eye, "Why don't you then?"

Laughter died away, a few nervous glances were exchanged. "Come on, Malfoy, that's not funny," Rosier said sternly.

"What, you think our Dark Lord wouldn't appreciate a kiss from a pretty bird?"

"Well, he's never seemed…you know… interested in that sort of thing…"

"Saying he's not manly? Saying he's not worthy of showing our appreciation for what he's done for us?" Malfoy's eyes were gleaming madly now. "Are you saying we shouldn't give him a token of our gratitude, throw him a tasty bone to chew on?"

They were silent now. They dared not speak against the Dark Lord, but what Malfoy suggested was short of insanity. Still, Juniper was hardly likely to be of a great concern to anyone, let alone Voldemort. What harm could there be in a little joke. Tossing her inside Voldemort's private chambers and then running away, like a schoolboy prank. They were all still drunk enough that it sounded not only plausible but downright humourous. Surely he'd get a right larf out of being included in the bunch, if they showed him what a swell guy they thought he was. Surely…

Not one of them was thinking clearly by the time they had made the decision, and not one of them was smart enough to question it and back down. Juniper was terrified beyond words now. She had protested feebly as they took her arms and Disapparated to a location in the midst of a dark wooded area she'd never seen before. There was a house, darker still, and darkest inside. Snickering and making vile comments about what they wondered Voldemort might do to her body, they strode toward the door, gained entrance with magic phrases, and tossed her inside without further ceremony. Only Malfoy seemed to be grinning to his depths. The others were pretending to themselves that it was all just in fun. And praying that Voldemort got the joke.

Instantly, Juniper regained her footing and bolted for the door, but it had disappeared. She uttered words at it, wishing desperately for her wand, but in the somewhat revealing outfit she'd chosen for the evening of 'fun' there wasn't much room to keep one. Banging on the bare wall would have been undignified and useless, so she turned away from the entrance again. Somehow, she would figure things out.

And suddenly she was facing Lord Voldemort himself. He stood a few yards away, cold and menacing. Pale skin drawn tight as a corpse, eyes like flickering embers of hatred, narrow mouth, flattened nose, long black robes fluttering around him. He smiled, and the smile was utter evil.

She had figured things out.

She was going to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES:  
> · TITLE. The Latin title "Dilabi" means "to fall apart", because things do, rather suddenly.  
> · BAD REPUTATION. The phrase "town bike" is kind of tacky. It refers to a toy that everyone shares. Think of a small neighborhood where only one kid's family can afford something cool like a bike, and how greedy the other kids are to borrow it every chance they get. See how mean-spirited the phrase is when applied to a person? (Borrowed this one from Red Dwarf, btw.)  
> · OTHER DEATH EATERS. I have no clue yet whether Wilkes was male or female. But it's a fair bet he's male, since only one female Death Eater was firmly identified in GoF, that being Mrs LeStrange. If I'm wrong about the gender, I'll just happily pretend Wilkes got a sex change!


	7. Retegere

Death stared her in the eye, and she could hardly believe it had come about because of a stupid macho pissing contest. If she hadn't been petrified, she'd have laughed.

Voldemort glared at her and she knew he saw her for what she was, saw everything inside her. Or nearly everything, hopefully some of the spells that were most important would hold under his baleful x-ray gaze.

He smiled a too-wide reptilian smile. "So," he hissed slightly, "here is the one among us who spies. And delivered right to my doorstep like a toothsome box of chockies, wrapped in silky ribbon. I should reward those who brought you here… except they don't have a bloody clue what you are. Do they?"

She stayed silent. She'd wondered if Malfoy had guessed, as she feared, or if he was merely being cruel to Snape again. Beginning to suspect it was the latter, she vowed that if she became a ghost, she'd haunt the hell out of him. "No, I don't believe any of them truly know me at all."

"Oh, I'm sure of it," he chuckled coldly. "They are all fools, driven by hormones and lust. You, no doubt, have used that fact to your greatest advantage, gathering information from them without them even realizing it."

She could see no use in denying the fact. "Yes."

"Lusts are useful, in their own way," he went on, coming slowly closer to her, "but must be carefully honed into the proper tools. Lusts of the flesh can only get one so far… But lust for power can take you to the depths and heights of magical ability. Can give you everything you crave…"

She shuddered as he came to within a few feet of her, but held her ground. He was repulsive beyond anything she'd really imagined. She'd heard of all the dangerous magics he'd used, and transformations of body he'd undergone. Painful and harsh, it had turned him into something barely human. He looked half dead.

"Now, why don't we see just what it is you're hiding, my dear little girl," Voldemort said softly. "I warn you, this may… hurt a bit." He raised his hand, holding a wand she now saw, and said, _"Crucio."_

Juniper fell to the floor, every nerve on fire, shaking as though in her death throes. She wished for death, quickly. But part of her brain, the trained part, tried hard to fight off the curse. She managed a little, and stopped screaming, her voice becoming only an extended moan of agony.

_"Finite Incantatem,"_ Voldemort uttered. "Impressive. I've seen few who could battle with the Cruciatus Curse. Mind you, that was only for sport. I intend to find every secret you're hiding and extract them from you, one by one…"

She knew then, that he meant it literally. While she was writhing on the floor, he must have cast a second spell, one to divine what she held within her very body. She looked and saw her wrists, ankles and chest were glowing slightly. He'd put a Locator spell on her. Damn. He was too clever.

"You're wondering, aren't you my dear, how I even thought of doing such a thing," he said with another smile. "Well I have many spells around my private chambers, of course. And one of those is to search out hidden magical artifacts. You set off the alarms, but you obviously weren't carrying much in that outfit." He sneered slightly now. "Silly tactic of my boys, to try and offer me seduction. They shall be punished a bit, I think. But not too much. After all, you are going to give me… great pleasure."

He leaned over her where she'd struggled to sit. "Brave girl. Foolish, of course, but brave. Tell me. Were you in Gryffindor?"

"Hufflepuff, actually," she said defiantly, standing and facing him.

"Even worse. A bunch of hopelessly loyal and hard-working twits." He placed a long bony hand beneath her chin and stared hard into her eyes. "Actually I am quite impressed with you. You have done things to yourself that I wouldn't have believed a simple girl capable of doing. Being implanted with magical artifacts, no doubt enduring rigorous training and discipline and a deal of pain. Working long and hard, like the good little Hufflepuff, to become something totally unique and wondrous deceptive. You remind me… of me." His grin now was almost fond, and it made her ill.

"I'm nothing like you," she said gently, "or I would not still be human."

His eyes narrowed to slits of fire. "I am far greater than any mere human shell, child. I could admire you for the complexity of what you've done, but you are still nothing. A spy that shall be dealt with harshly, as an example to any other who would dare to try." He raised his wand again and uttered, _"Imperio."_

She felt the possession of her senses, the soft sibilant voice in her mind asking her to release control and worry and just give in. How easy it would be to fall into that darkness. But this at least she knew she could fight, had done so in many training exercises.

He asked her then, "Who sent you? The Ministry of Magic? Who?"

"I came here," she said somewhat remotely, struggling upward from the depths of the curse, "of my own free will."

"Ah. Yes, I believe it was your choice. But surely someone helped you here. Gave you the training, the implants. Who, child, turned you into a Living Artifact?"

"You shall not hear it from my lips," she said with more certainty. And with that she tossed off the curse like a worn rag, staring back into his somewhat surprised eyes.

"So," he said with mild satisfaction, "you are that strong. Good. It shall be even more delightful to break you utterly in the end. We shall see though, whether you can fight potions as well as curses."

She blinked. Her one actual weakness. Of course. She'd known she was going to eventually meet her end, but so soon…

Voldemort hissed, and she realised he was speaking in Parseltongue. A huge snake slithered into the chamber and began to wrap itself around Juniper, until she was held tight from shoulder to floor. It rested its flat head near her face and regarded her impassively.

"Nagini here will crush you, should you foolishly try to harm her or escape. You won't be crushed to death, but you might wish it." He smiled, far too snakelike himself, then walked to the wall and opened the invisible doorway. He stepped outside and she was left alone with the giant reptile.

Once outside in the moonlight, Voldemort raised the sleeve of his robes and touched the Dark Mark, mentally calling his Death Eaters. Only those who were in Britain within the last few weeks, as all others would have no connection to or knowledge of this girl. No sense wasting time.

One by one, the small group appeared, looking curious and grave as ever. Those who had most recently been in the area looked a bit worried, as well they should. He didn't have nearly as much sense of humour as they'd hoped for in their drunkenness.

Forestalling any attempts at explanation, Voldemort simply said to the foursome he knew was responsible for Juniper's delivery, "My boys, thank you ever so much for the delightful toy you've brought me. I shall find it most amusing indeed, for the next several hours."

A few eyebrows were raised, but they merely nodded silently, muttering that it was their pleasure to be of service.

He turned to the smartest of the of the group. "Severus," he said softly, "I need a favour from you."

It was an order, no mistake, and Snape would obey. He schooled himself not to shudder and replied, "Certainly, my Lord. What do you desire of me?"

"I desire a bottle of Veritaserum, which you brew so very well, and also your most virulent poison. One that is painful and preferably has no antidote that can be made quickly enough to counter."

Snape wondered what poor soul had met with such disfavour, but he dared not question the 'request', nor did he dare provide anything less than the true items. He nodded, and Disapparated back to his flat to find them quickly.

Voldemort smiled coldly at the remaining four. "Such an obedient lad. He understands his place in this world. Follows my lead without question. Doesn't try to think I want more than I specifically demand from my own lips," he said pointedly, and lost the smile.

They got the gist, and turned shades of colour, from white to red to green, with fear. They knew punishment of some sort was forthcoming, and each prayed it was no more than the standard few moments of Cruciatus.

"Ah, but I shall deal with your presumptuousness later," Voldemort smiled again, letting them torture themselves for him, for the moment. "I actually must thank you, in earnest. You have delivered, to my very feet, Mata Hari herself."

A moment of confusion then a flash of comprehension. Then fury and excuses. Especially, he noted, from Malfoy. It figured.

"We had no clue, my Lord!"

Voldemort sneered. "That much is obvious."

"Had we known, we'd have killed her ourselves!"

"And deprive me of the joy?" Voldemort tsked them to silence. "No, you've each had your tumble with the slut, as she wormed information out of you. Valuable information that saved the lives of those we still need to eliminate."

And so they'd gone from bad to good to bad again in his sight. There was further squirming, fear and worry. Each looked from their own feet to each other, as if to say it was anyone's fault but their own. But each one of them had said something damning in the girl's presence, thinking her harmless and gormless. Some had shared what they still believed to be even greater intimacies with her. They were all culpable to some degree.

At that moment, Snape reappeared, holding two vials. He presented them to Voldemort with a curt nod and stepped back into the ranks. If he noticed anything changed in the atmosphere, he kept silent.

"Ah, thank you Severus, you are most dutiful. Now, you may all go. I'll deal with the rest of this matter… myself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES:  
> · TITLE. The Latin title "Retegere" means "exposed secrets". Boy and how.  
> · LIVING ARTIFACT. The concept of Juniper being a Living Artifact is my own idea. Again, came to me in a dream. I like the things I dream, when it comes to Snape.


	8. Exprimere

While Voldemort was outside and Juniper was held in the coils of the serpent, she desperately performed the Fidelius Charm on herself.

The Shadow Spiders could only keep so many secrets, and they probably wouldn't come within ten feet of the giant snake anyway. So she had to become her own Secret Keeper now. Almost silently, so that the snake didn't think she was trying anything unusual, she muttered the complicated words that would bind her thoughts of Severus to the one thing in her body that Voldemort couldn't possibly touch or find. The spells around it were cast to prevent discovery, made by a wizard of awesome power. Now, Voldemort would never find the truth about Severus, and nothing he did to her mind or body would tear it from her. Not even death.

Moments later, Voldemort strode back into the room, almost in a good mood. He carried two bottles, and she knew they were for her. "Well, shall we get started?" he said almost cheerily, and unstoppered one bottle. Grasping her cheeks with the other hand, he forced her lips open. She was already half breathless from the pressure of Nagini, and so couldn't prevent his tipping the contents into her mouth.

She swallowed convulsively and felt the slow spreading coldness take her over. She would not be able to fight this. But at least he would not get the one ultimate truth from her. Her mind ensnared, she became limp, her eyes dull and barely blinking.

"Ah yes. Now we shall have some fun," Voldemort said with delight, and hissing to Nagini to release her hold. The snake obeyed and slithered away into the dark, as Juniper crumpled to the floor before him. She was virtually boneless, more a puppet than under the Imperius curse now.

"Tell me," he said softly, "who gave you these implants? Where did you come by them?"

"They belonged, in pieces, to my parents who were great collectors. They collected many great ancient artifacts and devices. What I have in my body is only a small part of their collection."

"Indeed? Then again I am impressed. Did they make you into this?"

"No, they have been dead for three years now. I was implanted two years ago."

"And no doubt there was an extensive period of adjustment, and training for your task, before you attempted to infiltrate my operations."

"Yes, almost a year and a half. I have been spying actively for only six months."

"And caught so soon," Voldemort tsked. "Such a shame. But you did manage to cause some damage, so I suppose your mission was something of a success. Your parents would have been proud. How did they come to such an early end?"

"Accident. Killed by a Muggle driver. Muggle doctors couldn't help them. I was in shock, and there were no magical folk nearby. But it was just an accident. I never blamed the Muggles."

"Ah… I had wondered how you slithered your way into our midst. You used this tragedy to pretend a hatred for Muggles you don't even feel. An effective ruse, with just enough truth to pass muster if anyone investigated your background. Which of course no one did, as they were too busy with other pursuits." Voldemort sneered, then smiled. "You do continue to impress me, child. Pity you couldn't have been sincerely interested in following me. I could use one so determined as you."

"Rather die first. I shall." A small smile played on her lips, as she blinked at nothing.

He sneered yet again. She was too sure of herself, even under the Truth Serum, that he wondered just how strong she might be. "Now, back to your interesting history lesson. Your parents died and then what? You were still quite young. Where did you go? How did you live?"

"Went home to England, sold my parents' estate, and many artifacts. Paid for private tutors. Didn't go back to Hogwarts…"

"But surely you had someone, a guardian. You were still a minor."

"Yes," she said softly, wishing deep inside that she could stop herself from answering. "My great-grandfather… Aberforth Dumbledore…"

Voldemort's face twisted into a rictus of hatred and he drew his breath in with a hiss. At least that much was a small pleasure to her in her state, to know that the stories were true -- he did fear one wizard above all else.

"You… are related to Albus Dumbledore," he snarled.

"His great grand-niece," she said with honest pride, smiling muzzily at the distance. "He who is far greater and more powerful than you could ever pray to be, in your most fevered perverse dreams… you disgusting piece of filth…" Veritaserum had the advantage now, since they would both know her words were nothing but truth.

"Dumbledore," he spat the name as though it fouled his lips, "I might have guessed. That Muggle-loving antiquated fool. Tell me what part he played in this decision to send you as a spy?"

"Not so very much really. It was my idea, and he was against it at first," she said softly. "But when I grew determined, and decided on the implants, he sent me for training with the Ministry. Otherwise, he knows only what is passed to him. We've had no direct contact in some time…"

"Why should you desire to risk your life and limb, young thing that you are, on such a suicidal mission? Was there nothing worth living for?"

"There is much. I wanted to help protect people from your monsters. And I wanted some revenge…"

"Oh, do tell."

"I had doubts that my parents' deaths were purely accidental. The driver literally seemed to come from nowhere. And there was no way that my wand signals should have been completely unanswered. There are magical folk everywhere, even in the strangest of places. I suspected those in the Dark Arts… because my father had several artifacts that were quite dangerous, and some people had tried to buy them unsuccessfully… I knew I was right, as a few weeks after I returned home, the same people came by trying to get me to sell. Figured I was too grief-stricken, too young and naïve, to know better… They were wrong. I had already turned most of the artifacts over to the Ministry, and the rest went to Gringotts." She smiled fuzzily. "The most useful ones, I kept for myself."

"Yes, you were very clever girl. I am sure that those people who wanted the items were indeed working for me, though not Death Eaters themselves. Now, what are these things you have within you? Tell me everything they do."

"They are multi-purpose and some are interactive. I have Guidance Lodestones with imbedded Kneazle hair in my ankles. When I cross my ankles like so," she said, weakly making the movement, "a mark appears on a map in my great-great-uncle's possession… so that he shall know precisely where I am."

Voldemort grinned maliciously. "And so those shall be the first items we remove, and then we move to a new location. Besides, I don't wish to sully my fine rugs with much of your blood." He approached, wand out and ready. "So, shall we just hack off both feet? No, then you might bleed to death before I finish with you. Where are they located precisely?"

"They replace a bone in each ankle," she said quietly, and felt actual fear flow through her. Wasn't Veritaserum supposed to keep her from feeling such things?

Voldemort pointed the wand and uttered, "Monstroare Aviatus". A bright red glow shone through her skin, and he quickly conjured a knife. Slicing into her left ankle, while she struggled not to cry out, he found the glowing object and used the knife further to pry it loose from the socket, between cartilage and tendons.

She whimpered helplessly as he held it up for closer inspection. "Most impressive. Cut to exact shape, made to fit as a replacement for bone. Must have been difficult to learn to walk on stones. Why not remove them both," he snarled as he cut mercilessly into her left ankle and tore the second stone out. "Impressive indeed. Oh, but now you shan't be able to walk at all. Well then… Mobilicorpus."

And she felt herself floating, weak and wracked with pain, unable to control her own body or mind. When she'd gotten the implants, it had been uncomfortable but handled with medical precision and pain relievers. This was purely brutal, and he was reveling in it. More and more, she realised she'd made the right choice in trying to save what lives she could. Even at the expense of her own.

"Now girl," he was saying, "tell me where you live. We'll finish this mess on your own rug. Are you on the Floo network?"

"Yes…"

"The name of your home?"

"Dwy Gwenu…"

"'Two Smiles'. How fitting," Voldemort smiled. "Except tonight it shall only be one…" And he flung a handful of Floo powder into his fireplace, dragging her with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES:  
> · TITLE. The Latin title "Exprimere" means "to squeeze out", because that's what starts happening in a very unplesant way.  
> · KNEAZLES &amp; LODESTONES. According to JKR, the Kneazle is not only capable of telling about a person's character, but is great at helping their owners find their way home. Therion's hair, combined with a lodestone, seemed perfect.  
> · LATIN. The spell "Monstroare Aviatus" means basically "show me", and conveniently sounds a bit like "monster".  
> · FLOO NETWORK &amp; NAMES. Seems like the Floo network requires individual names for each location, kind of like having phone numbers (i.e. "The Burrow"). The Welsh name "Dwy Gwenu" (two smiles) makes an obvious reference to the name Janus, and seems to indicate she lives in Wales somewhere. Plus I love the Welsh language. Interestingly enough, the word for "smile" is almost identical to the word for "white" (gwen), and perhaps should indicate that happiness and positive magic go together?


	9. Percipio

When they came from the fireplace, Therion jumped up from the hearthrug, every hair raised on his body. He hissed wildly and felt torn between trying to defend his mistress of so many years, and fleeing for his life.

Then he ran.

He leapt through the tall meadow grass, frantic to find what he needed. Finally he located the item. An empty cat food tin. He touched it with one front paw, and vanished.

Voldemort dumped Juniper unceremoniously onto the floor where the Kneazle had been. He'd scarcely paid attention to the creature, as most animals ranked just above Muggles in his opinion. He preferred them slightly more, because they were less complicated.

"How very fortunate that you have a home in such a charmingly remote area. No nosy neighbors to hear your screams. I shall get to enjoy them all by myself." He smiled as he seated himself on her sofa.

She tried hard not to think of the first night with Severus, and how they'd nearly come to make love on that very spot. The pain in her legs was so enormous that it successfully dimmed even that pleasant memory.

"Let's continue now, shall we?" Voldemort said. "Tell me of your other implants."

Gasping, compelled still by the Veritaserum, she said, "There is a Riddle Onyx… onyx imbedded with a sphinx feather… in my left wrist… It creates an automatic Confundus or Oblivate spell when I need it to. It protected me."

"No longer. Though I'm sure you used it well on some of my Death Eaters," Voldemort shook his head. "How very disappointing. I shall have to re-educate a few of them what their purposes are. What else have you?"

"In my right wrist is a Power Opal… a black opal fused with dragon wing bone… to make all spells with my wand more precise and powerful…"

"A good tool. What more?"

"A Pure Heart device… the tip of a unicorn's horn, just between my ribs, over my heart… it enhances my own natural ability to see the auras of other people. Helps me see their true hearts…"

"And does it help you see that mine is blacker than a starless night?" he asked with some amusement. "Yes, I'm sure that's poetic enough. Is there anything else?"

"Only… one more. A cap on my upper back molar… Truth Agate… a blood agate with a carving of a serpent, combined with Jobberknoll feather…"

"Ah, that is most cunning. A kiss, and a man not prepared might give away most any secret." Voldemort rose then, bloodied knife in hand. "Now for the biggest question. I know you passed information to someone. Who was it? How did you do it?"

The power of the ultimate spell in her head prevented her from speaking the total truth, even under the influence of the Truth Serum. "I gave information to whomever would use it best," she said softly, "and it was sent… in the usual way." It was truthful and he could make of it what he wished, but it would be wrong.

And it was. "The Ministry, by owl? How disappointingly normal. But I suppose your poor little frame could only handle so much constant magic. Only those of us who are strong and prepared to take the consequences could have handled more than you." He smirked proudly, believing himself to be above her in all ways. "Let's find out now how much pain you can take…"

He then went to work with violent delight, removing her wrist implants. She was weeping freely now, but had yet to actually scream aloud. This seemed to mildly disillusion him, but only enough to make him scoff at her attempted bravery. Truth be told, she was floating on a cloud of pain but barely felt it anymore.

Slicing open her bodice, he smiled nastily. "Yes… I can see why all the young fools found you so delectable." His skeletal fingertips brushed rather carelessly over her left breast as he carved into her ribcage for the next artifact. He continued speaking haughtily, "As for myself, I find that I have all but moved beyond the lusts of simple flesh. The greatest of pleasures come from power. Especially over the weaknesses of others."

She really didn't care to hear his proselytizing just now, as she rather was busy dying. So she gasped, "Pity you'll never know how to master your own weaknesses."

He snarled, nearly crushing the bit of unicorn horn in his fist, and lowered his face too closely to hers. "I have no weaknesses, girl."

"But you do… cruelty, violence, hatred, corruption of others… so small and petty and weak you are inside… What a sad little insignificant thing you truly are… so-called 'Lord' Voldemort."

"I'm killing you, girl," he raged in her face, "isn't that proof enough of my power?"

"No… it only proves my own point." She smiled almost ecstatically up at his anger, knowing what a nerve she'd struck and enjoying it even as she felt her life ebbing.

"I'll remove that damned smile now," he hissed and wrenched her jaw open. With no more grace, he tore the molar from its socket.

She choked, almost drowning on her own blood. Perhaps now he'll kill me, she thought. The pain had become a humming in the background, almost beyond sensation now. But somehow she found her voice again, slurred but strong. "I know you… Tom Riddle."

Voldemort froze. "That is not me," he glared at her with hatred enough to burn holes in her.

"Yes, it is... At the core of everything you've done… everything you became… you're still the same lonely, frightened orphan boy… too frightened to even risk loving someone…" A look of bliss came into her eyes then, and her voice sounded more remote, as if coming from someplace outside herself. _"One day… Dark Lord… the brightness of Love itself shall bring you down… and you shall be tainted by that Love forever more…"_

"SHUT YOUR INFERNAL MOUTH, YOU HALF-DEAD SLUT!" he screeched in her face, trembling at her words despite himself. "Dumbledore shall be notified of your death. I shall send each of your implants one by one to him, as a token of how you sacrificed your stupid life for 'love'."

"Yes," she whispered, "that will be most appropriate for you to do." And she closed her eyes, as if to finally die. But before she could even become unconscious, he poured the nearly forgotten second vial of liquid down her throat and the world caught fire again. Poison.

Pain wracked her weary ruined body anew, and she moaned, a long keening wail of agony. Trying to curl into a fetal position, she couldn't even manage. Her arms and legs were all but useless now. She shook violently as the poison destroyed her muscles and nerves, tearing holes in her organs. Her head tilted to the side as blood, saliva and tears mixed together and flowed onto the floor with her life.

Voldemort smiled again, satisfied at last. "Much as I would enjoy watching you suffer 'til the last, I shall content myself with the knowledge that you cannot be saved. There is no ready antidote, so even if your dear Dumbledore burst through the door this instant you would merely die in his loving arms. And that image shall keep me warm at night for quite some time to come." He turned to the doorway, as if to leave. "I bid you farewell. Let your death be a lesson to Dumbledore and all who would oppose me."

As he Disapparated, he left Juniper with one coherent thought still on her dying mind. Good riddance.

Snape had waited most of the evening, hoping Juniper would arrive. She came as often as she could rid herself of the attentions of Rosier, or Wilkes, or whoever the hell she was 'seeing' this week. He only prayed it wasn't that bloody damned Malfoy. He'd have to kill him personally.

He'd left the closet door open until nearly midnight, but she hadn't appeared. So he closed it, and lay down in his clothes, prepared to spend another sleepless night tossing and turning alone in his bed. Damn, but he missed her, even if it was only a day without her presence.

Suddenly a thud and a loud scratching came from the closet, following by a horrible yowling. He leapt from the bed, confused and worried. Opening the door he was almost knocked down by a huge Kneazle. It was Therion.

"Whoa, boy, easy," he said, attempting to calm the beast. But it was frantically tugging at his pants leg with its claws, trying to drag him into the closet too.

His heart went ice cold and nearly closed his throat with fear. Why else would the cat be here… unless Juniper was in terrible trouble.

Tonight. Voldemort. The potions he'd asked for.

The potions Snape himself had made and given him…

He made a frantic search in his potions cabinet, and found one that might help a bit, then grabbed the animal and leapt into the closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES:  
> · TITLE. The Latin title "Percipio" means both "perceive" and "to get the better of". She does both to Voldemort in the end, which he doesn't want to admit, of course.  
> · ARTIFACTS. Each artifact is my own invention. THE RIDDLE ONYX (no relation to Tom!): According to "Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Crystal, Gem &amp; Metal Magic", onyx can be used for protection and defense, as well as supressing sex drives (i.e.- the men she was warding off). That combined with a sphinx feather could make for a powerful combination and lots of confusion in their minds. THE POWER OPAL: Same reference as above. It describes the rare black opal has always been prized by witches, used to increase power during spells. Combining with anything from a dragon would make it especially strong. THE PURE HEART: The unicorn horn is self-explanatory, I think. THE TRUTH AGATE: Same reference as above. Agates are often worn as truth amulets, and were used in ceremonial magic with engravings of serpents as protection against snakes. Combined with Jobberknoll feather, this could draw out a lot of truth from someone. Betrayal with a kiss, eh?  
> · JUNIPER'S PROPHECY. Re: Lily, of course.  
> · THERION TO THE RESCUE. Isn't Therion a smart little Kneazle! I think (know) that Crookshanks is half Kneazle himself, and maybe Therion could be his daddy?


	10. Necis

Snape knew he couldn't think straight enough to find the next Portkey, so he dropped Therion to the ground in Hyde Park and followed him to the right spot. When he found himself in the field outside her home, he started running. Then realised what a waste of time it was, and Disapparated.

When he appeared inside the home, he saw what nearly made him scream. She was dead, had to be. Lying bloody and broken on the hearthrug. But no, she was still trembling slightly, and a low small groan was coming from her lips.

He dropped to his knees and uncorked the bottle he'd brought, hastily tipping it into her mouth. She barely swallowed, but managed enough to stop shivering.

Her bright green eyes, dulled with pain, opened and saw the one sight she had prayed would be her last. Severus. She actually smiled, a little. "What… did you give me? It doesn't hurt… so much now…"

"The only thing I could, unfortunately. A pain reliever…" He wouldn't tell her it contained hemlock and would kill her just as effectively as the other poison. But there was no antidote at all. Even a bezoar would be useless, as it was needed prior to any poison's ingestion. And it was his fault.

"Oh, Severus… I'm so glad you came…," she said muzzily. "How did you know?"

"Therion came to me," he said softly.

"See… he's not so dumb after all," she sounded proud and gazed past him to the face of her beloved Kneazle, who was pacing with worry.

Snape shook his head. He waved his wand at the pillows on her sofa and placed one under her head, another under her knees. He was trying to hard to make her comfortable when they both knew she was dying. It was adorable, she thought.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered. "If I had known what would happen, I would have have made you leave town. I would have forced you to quit and leave…"

"My choice," she said, gazing at him with such sweetness.

He conjured a wet cloth and gingerly wiped some of the blood from her face. He couldn't do much else, but at least he would see her sweet face clean, one last time. To give her some modicum of dignity, he also gently tugged her bodice back together. He surreptitiously surveyed the damage to her body, and calculated that, between poison and blood loss, she probably only had minutes left to live.

His brain became instantly sharp. He wouldn't waste any more time to tell her of his love. He didn't care anymore if Voldemort squeezed his secrets out of him, along with his life.

Then she was speaking again. "Severus, I need a favour…"

It was absurb and comical and eerie all at once, how she was virtually repeating what Voldemort had said to him earlier. Did she know? "Anything," he said without hesitation, "I'll give you my life…"

"No," she said somewhat adamantly. "I need you to live. It's dangerous what I ask, but you will be protected. I need you to deliver something for me… my last implant…"

"Implant?" he asked, brow furrowed with confusion. So that explained why there were so many holes in her body. Not mere torture, but removing of devices. He was startled that she hadn't told him, but understood why. She'd been a spy in many more ways than he'd imagined, and it wasn't safe to let anyone know the extent of the secrets she kept. "What is it? Where is it?"

She smiled. "In my head, very near my pituitary gland." At his shocked look she added, "Don't worry, you shan't have to crack open my skull to get it out. Not that I would feel it anymore…"

"My gods, Juniper! How can you be joking now?"

"In my nature. No, I won't feel it at all," she continued, more hurriedly now. "Point your wand against my forehead, just above my eyebrows, and say _'Tertius Oculi Foris'…"_

He translated mentally. Third Eye Out. His own eyes opened wider at the idea. Someone else had been looking upon her entire life, through her eyes…

"When you have it, put it quickly into the Stasis Box on Therion's collar… Then take it to my great-uncle… Albus Dumbledore."

The surprise in Snape's eyes was beyond huge. But he nodded and raised his wand toward her forehead. "I… I love you, Juniper."

"I know. I love you too, Severus. I have from the first moment." She smiled and looked at him with utter trust.

His heart began to crack, but he uttered the spell and watched as her eyes grew a brilliant shining green, light pulsing from within. And a glowing sphere of greenish crystal, the size of a marble, came from behind her skin, bone and brain. When he had secured it in the box, he turned to her face again… and saw her wide open gaze. And he knew it was ended. She was dead.

Knowing he had precious little time, he wondered if he ought to do something with her body… But suddenly Therion was again tugging at him and mewling insistently. The Kneazle knew best where his mistress was concerned, and right now Snape himself was in the greater danger. He nodded, gathered the beast up in arms again, and Disapparated to the edge of Hogwarts grounds.

Once in the Forbidden Forest, the Kneazle jumped from his arms and began to make a beeline for the castle. When it realised it wasn't being followed, it turned back and found the human on his knees in the fallen leaves, weeping uncontrollably into his hands.

Therion waited patiently for a moment, then padded closer and laid a gentle paw on the human's shaking arm. When his dark eyes raised and met the Kneazle's golden gaze, he nodded and stood up.

Snape knew that crying would have to wait. As he followed the cat throught the woods, he wondered if he'd ever have the luxury of time to cry in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES:  
> · TITLE. The Latin title "Necis" means simply "death". She dies, and Snape feels like his heart has died. Poor baby :(  
> · POISONS. Again, according to "Cunningham's": hemlock can make one feel numb, and magically was used in astral projection spells (in tiny doses). The bezoar (per JKR) is used as protection against poisons, but nowhere is it said it will reverse the effects once they've started.  
> · THIRD EYE CRYSTAL. Also my invention. It is just what it seems like, a crystal ball. Not for seeing the future, but the immediate present.


	11. Almus

Snape was beyond feeling any surprise. He was met at the door by a waiting house elf with a lantern, who showed him not to the Headmaster's office, but to the kitchens. There sat Albus Dumbledore, in star-spangled blue nightgown and cap, having a cup of cocoa with the other house elves.

"Ah, Severus, I'm glad to see you so promptly," he said in his jovial way, and smiled at the tired and worn out young man. "Would you care for something to eat or drink? I highly recommend the cocoa, with plenty of marshmallows."

Was he kidding? Good gods, no wonder Juniper's sense of humour was so odd… she'd inherited it. "No, sir. Not at the moment, thank you."

"Then perhaps we should give Therion a nice saucer of warm milk, with just a touch of cinnamon. I know he likes that. And also take the small silver box from his collar, would you?"

The elves immediately provided the milk, and the Kneazle then promptly ignored everyone else. An elf removed the box, and handled it to the Headmaster, who placed it safely in the pocket of his robe.

Dumbledore stood, mug in hand, and placing his hand on Snape's shoulder said, "Come with me, dear boy, and I'll give you some answers you are no doubt craving. And, if I am able, some small amount of solace."

Snape doubted anyone could give him what he needed, ever. But he followed his old Headmaster away from the kitchens and through the almost labyrinthine castle, until they had reached his offices. Snape had been there only once before, when he'd protested against Sirius Black and the attempt on his life. Now… was much different. And worse.

He sat in the chair offered, and tried to listen to Dumbledore's words. But everything was floating into his head and roiling around in a cauldron of guilt, as he replayed the last few minutes of Juniper's life. She'd died because of him. His poison had killed her.

"Do you really think that?"

"What?" Snape hadn't realised he'd been speaking aloud. He flushed, and tried to regain control of himself. "I'm sorry, sir. I seem to be a bit… detached tonight."

"And small wonder. A young woman you loved just died and you were compelled to witness it. It's not a pleasant thing… for anyone."

There was meaning in his words, beyond what it seemed. There always was with Dumbledore. He placed one hand on a larger greenish crystal ball, which sat on his desk. It was the receiver, when the smaller one in Juniper's head had been the transmitter. Dumbledore, too, had watched the bitter end.

"Sir…," Snape said with a shaking voice, trying to control himself, "I… I know that Voldemort was the one who tortured her, gave her the Truth Serum and poison. But it was me who provided them."

"You had no idea it was for her."

"Didn't I?" Snape shouted at himself. "Didn't I even wonder for a single moment, 'how much longer can she keep up this charade?' 'How much longer before something absolutely horrible happens?' 'Why didn't I try to make her leave?' 'How much longer before I help to end another precious life?'" He found he was crying again, through the shouting, and put his face in his hands. His body shook and he thought he'd never be able to stop.

"Severus, as I was trying to explain to you… You know perfectly well that she made the decision to become what she did, and to continue it even after she met you. She herself was considering leaving the mission, once she did. Because she didn't want to risk hurting you."

Looking up again, Snape was cold. "She didn't want to hurt me? Every moment I didn't have her near was hell. And she went and got herself killed, the careless bitch." As soon as the words left his lips, he bit them until they nearly bled. "I didn't mean…"

"Ah, and now we've gone from self-blame to blaming the other." Dumbledore smiled gently. "Juniper was willful but she was never careless. Though I must confess, I never truly liked the method she used."

"No, it was demeaning and tacky, and men thought the worst of her. And it simply wasn't true. And it… it killed me inside… every time I saw her with someone else…" Snape hung his head, ashamed.

"But it was awfully effective work, for the short time she was able to do it." Blue eyes twinkled. "She knew how she would be seen, and though I agree with your feelings I couldn't have told her to do otherwise. Being headstrong runs in the family I'm afraid. But you saw through the ruse and that pleased her greatly. She cared so much what you thought of her. She always has cared too much perhaps, for strangers, for anyone but herself. And for you. She used her last moments before Voldemort gave her the Truth Serum to protect you. She knew that, regardless of whether she told Voldemort everything he wanted to know, she would die. She died doing what she set out to do. Saving another's life."

"Are you trying to make me feel grateful to her, for her fatalism?" Snape said morosely. "I already am. I'm indebted to her forever, for many more things. She told me that I am not completely evil, she treated me with kindness I have rarely had a chance to enjoy. And she also… well…" He almost blushed.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I think we can skip the particulars. I'm afraid I've already witnessed enough of your… interaction to give me a clear idea."

"Oh gods," Snape put his burning face in his hands again. Of course, the Third Eye would have shown everything they did together. Everything.

"I'm not such a voyeur, boy, that I don't know when to avert my eyes," Dumbledore chuckled. "But I did need to see enough to know that she was not in danger from someone she didn't know well. Apparently, she knew you better than you knew yourself."

"She said… she could see good in me. And I'd like to think there is something to that… But," Snape said holding up his hands helplessly, "what the hell do I do now? I can't… I just can't go back to being a Death Eater. I can't fall into the pit and get swallowed again."

"No, you shouldn't allow that," Dumbledore agreed. "But you can do something. You can take her place."

Snape's eyes flashed. "I don't think I want to be implanted."

"No, I wouldn't suggest it. Besides, those items are long gone. Voldemort shall find that they have become useless trinkets, now that they are outside her body. They were meant to work together, or not at all. Unfortunately, her body had become so accustomed to the enormous amounts of magic that she didn't really know she was surviving on it. She had, as he called her, truly become a Living Artifact. And once a piece of an artifact becomes dislodged, the rest fails to work. The only way she would have continued living is to have the implants replaced quickly. She was doomed to die, from the minute the first implant came out."

So the poison would have had nothing to do with it, Snape found himself thinking. "But the last implant… the Third Eye… How did Voldemort never find it?"

"Ah, that one was a bit different. It was the first she received and worked independently of the others. It was protected with different spells, which I myself placed upon it and controlled through the larger crystal here. It was implanted through use of magic, and not surgery like the rest. It was pure, not a mixture of elements as the others were. It almost has a life of its own, and so long as it remains most of the time inside this Stasis Box it shall not lose its power. All that she saw and heard while it lived in her body is recorded within, and will stay there. Also… she used its power to keep from speaking the entire truth to Voldemort, even with the Veritaserum he gave her."

Once again, Snape felt some measure of relief. Then he wasn't fully to blame for what she went through. She was protected… and what she did had been her choice. But…

"I would rather still have her alive…" He'd spoken aloud again.

"I know, dear boy. I know. As would I," Dumbledore's eyes looked a bit brighter than before. "Do you believe… in the continuation of the soul? That a spirit can live on, whether by itself or through another?"

"I… I'm not sure, sir," Snape frowned. "I know we have ghosts here… But if you are speaking of reincarnation, there's never been proof positive. Has there?"

"Well, there are a few cases that have been documented which seem to persuade one of the possibility. But I was speaking a bit more metaphorically. Did you truly… love Juniper, Severus?"

Snape met the pale blue eyes with the most honesty he had ever felt in his life. "Yes. I know I didn't know her for long, but… yes. There was something… beyond normal emotions working through us, I think. I don't know what that means, but it sounds right."

Dumbledore nodded. "Sounds right to me, as well. She was a gifted child, and seeing auras was only one of her gifts. The other was one that, sadly, only a few possess… the ability to totally give her love to someone. Utterly and completely give, without holding back. She may have locked secrets in her mind, but her heart… that was always free. And she gave it to you, no doubt about that."

Before any tears could begin again, Snape asked roughly, "So what can I do… to help her spirit live on? Become a spy too? Risk my own life for others?" He nodded to himself, slightly numb. Maybe that would help him felt slightly redeemed for the atrocities he'd already committed… and would no doubt have to commit again while he fought from the inside for a way out. And if he did die doing it, then it was a nobler death than he'd ever get being as he was. "Yes… I think you're right. But I can't be the same as her. I can't be like two people. I have to give all or nothing…"

"I remember well, you were always that way." Dumbledore smiled fondly at the boy, who was growing to true manhood before his eyes. "And that is your strength, Severus. All or nothing. You wear a mask inside and outside. But it needn't be always in place. Whenever you come to see me again, you may take it off and… be who you wish."

Snape looked again into the elder man's eyes. "I can't believe I'm agreeing to do this. It's suicide."

"Perhaps not. You are skilled at pretending to be what they believe. And some part of you is capable of the coldness that will be required to continue the act. Turn your mask into a mirror. Let it reflect to them what they expect to see. Also keep a mirror on the inside, so you can see what Juniper saw in you, shining back…"

Dumbledore smiled gently as Snape closed his eyes. He was already trying to envision it, a mirrored mask. Good. The magic of it was already beginning.

"It will not be an easy task, I know," the Headmaster continued, "and you will be in danger. I do have other contacts that I intend to make aware of your activities. And they shall do what they can to help you, but it shall all be done in silence. Your life, I'm afraid, is about to become more complicated than you have ever dreamed. But it will not always be so." Dumbledore held up the tiny silver box that contained Juniper's last implant. "There was a moment when Juniper predicted something, and I believe it is true. They say that those on their deathbed can sometimes see into the future… She said to Voldemort that one day, he would be destroyed by love…"

Snape's eyes widened. Could it be possible, that someone might bring the Dark Lord down? Use the opposite of his hatred against him? He prayed it were true. In the meantime…

"I should be getting back to my flat. After tonight, Voldemort will be questioning everyone that met Juniper, I'm sure of it. He'll be out for a little more blood, or at least pain."

"Yes, no doubt to soothe his own fears," Dumbledore smiled, "that her dying words to him were true, not merely because of the Veritaserum…"

Snape almost smiled then. He stood and was ready to leave when he turned and addressed the Headmaster once more. "Sir, would you do me a favor?" He hated that phrase now, and vowed he'd never use it again.

"Yes, Severus?"

"Could you… keep a Secret?"

"Consider it Kept. Voldemort shall never find out that you loved her. Now go, before he finds you missing."

Snape lived through the night and the next day, as Voldemort probed his mind, but nothing was found to condemn him.

Juniper was buried, and he of course missed her funeral.

Her spirit lived on. And he began to watch the world through a two-way mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES:  
> · TITLE. The Latin title "Almus" means "life-giving" or "nourishing" and also "kind, gracious". Conveniently sounds a lot like "Albus" too.  
> · SNAPE THE SPY. We have yet to see what JKR says Snape's reasons are for becoming a spy. But I think he had to have done so for a very good reason. Not merely out of nobleness of his own heart (which he has) but also because he was hurt deeply by Voldemort on a personal level. And since he started spying even before Lily was killed, that can't have been the (only) reason, can it?  
> · MY INTENTIONS. When Snape speaks of "something beyond normal emotions" working through them, I like to think they were soul mates, instantly recognizing each other. Such a short and tragic love affair, but deep and serious nonetheless sigh I know, I'm far too romantic for my own damn good.  
> · LOVE. That other rare gift, the one of self-sacrificing love, sounds a bit like Lily, eh? Yeah, I know. OBVIOUS.  
> · MIRRORED MASK. Spellbooks that refer to using mirrors often use them to reflect evil back upon itself, so I figured a mask made of it would be the most effective thing. And it makes such beautiful imagery…


	12. Epilogus

Snape sighed heavily with memories and replaced the tiny green crystal into its box. On the table beside him was a book of Muggle poetry he'd been given long ago, some student or other that had decided he needed a Christmas present. Silly children. And mostly silly poems too.

But one always caught his mind, and he always found himself reading it on this night. He held up the book and read the words that he'd already memorised over the years…

_i have seen her a stealthily frail  
flower walking with its fellows in the death  
of light, against whose enormous curve of flesh  
exactly cubes of tiny fragrance try;  
i have watched certain petals rapidly wish  
in the corners of her youth; whom, fiercely shy  
and gently brutal, the prettiest wrath  
of blossoms disheveling made a pale  
fracas upon the accurate moon…  
across the important gardens her body  
will come toward me with its hurting sexual smell  
of lilies… beyond night's silken immense swoon  
the moon is like a floating silver hell  
a song of adolescent ivory_

Wearily, he was reminded of both Juniper and Lily. He had wished to save them both, had risked his life to warn against the coming attack on the latter. Their deaths both haunted him. He was sad, but too tired to let it drag him into a hole of darkness anymore. He already had spent years mourning them, and avenging them, and wearing a mirrored mask to hide those feelings from damn near everyone.

Except Dumbledore of course. He knew everything. That's why he'd eventually given the crystal into Snape's possession. He'd told him that seeing the world through Juniper's eyes might help to alleviate some of the pain. And it had, a tiny bit.

She hadn't enjoyed everything she endured the last few months of her life. But he'd gotten to watch vicariously, through the two years before they'd met. He'd seen her make the dangerous decisions for herself. A will of iron with a sense of humour that kept everything in perspective. And when she was alone, she had been sweet and free and delightful and brilliant. He had seen her world in ways he could never have imagined otherwise. And he wished, with deep bittersweetness, that he'd been able to share it with her.

Clearing his throat of the threat of tears, he called out softly, _"Umbra Janua"_. And Vivian came slowly from the shadows around the hearth. "Hello, old friend," he said with a small smile. "I appreciate all you've done for me over the years."

**It is our pleasure, friend Severus,** the white Shadow Spider spun out, **for you found us a new safe home here in this place. We will help you and all those you hold dear.**

"Can you please write down what I say? And of course keep it hidden?" He knew he didn't need to ask, but it was a politeness that they seemed to enjoy exchanging.

**As always,** came the reply.

And as always, he merely said, "I love you Juniper. I love you, I love you, I love you. Wherever you are. Where you live inside me. Whenever I look around Hogwarts. Whenever I look at Dumbledore. Even when I see Harry Potter, blast the little idiot boy. I care about too many people now, thanks to your love. I've done terrible things even since you left this earth, but all for love. I love you. And I regret many things… but never finding you."

He had to let himself believe that she was somewhere out there. Her soul was waiting for him. Whether it was in an afterlife, or she had been reborn… he couldn't begin to guess. Somehow, he would find her again. He would find love. Why he was sure, he didn't know. Perhaps…

Perhaps, he thought fondly, she still has me under her spell.

...Intercapedo...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> · NOTES:  
> · POEM. By e.e. cummings. Soon as I read it, I thought "hey that sounds a lot like what I'm writing", so I borrowed it. Most everything else cummings writes is… too difficult for me to wrap my head around, unless I'm half unconscious.  
> · HARRY POTTER. I don't really think Snape HATES Harry. Just lets himself be reminded too much of his own childhood when he sees the boy. And how things play out between Draco and Harry is just too much like his own past for comfort. He has to remain careful with Draco, because of Lucius. But Harry he can harrass and silently protect, and maybe build up his tolerance for nastiness so he can survive on his own… and maybe work out his own personal demons of the past at the same time. Just my theory.

**Author's Note:**

> Do not republish or distribute this story, in whole or in part, anywhere else without my permission.


End file.
